powered by SignMyGuestbook.com |  |
2001-01-06 We were supposed to take things to Goodwill today. The Boyfriend called at 12:30 and I pushed the phone onto my head in bed. He was out with people from work last night until late, so he'd just woken up. The two of us talking before coffee? No, nothing sensical came out of that. I'm drinking coffee now to try and figure out if we're still going and what I need to dispose of. I'm looking at a large pile of old MacAddict Magazines and debating whether they'll survive the weekend. Honestly, most the the dross that has accumulated is either (1) outdated or broken computer equipment, (2) printed matter, most of which I should just bit the bullet and throw away, or (3) Clothing which I've, um, "outgrown." And giving those things away feels like saying that I'll never have a 31 inch waist again. You're right, no, I'll probably never have a 31 inch waist again. That's one of the things that happens to many people as our metabolism starts to slow in our late-twenties. And I didn't believe it until it happened to me. Regardless, there's still someone else's clothes in my closet. Oh, and the painting supplies from when my mother was sharing her passion for painting with me. And the mementos on top of my bookshelf. And the neat plastic toys and other crap that accumulates on my shelves. And... I still say some of my packrat problem is genetic. My grandmother has a sewing/knitting room with enough fabric and yarn for about 5 years worth of projects, if that was all one did. My mother, for one example, bought a 100 bottle wine rack and filled it with various California wines. And aside from holidays, they don't drink wine. See, the advantage they have is that they have larger spaces for all this stuff. Of course, that means they just have more stuff, so maybe I'm just jealous of the amount of space they have to fill. We were supposed to have reviews with my Boss yesterday. Not surprisingly, they didn't happen. That involves communicating about the position, determining interests and affinities, defining roles, writing goals...you know, those icky people skills that never get counted in the race for the bottom line. Part of the process is also an employee review of our supervisor. I'm not sure what to bring up and what not to. Notably I'm trying to find a polite and corporate way to say "I'm still sore from when you called my design style 'horsey' but I'm working past that. More importantly I don't like the silent judgement you cast on my and my friends' tastes in matters that don't affect work." It doesn't want to come out in a way that doesn't sound whiny and childish to me. Maybe because I'm feeling whiny and childish. So I continue on, working on my ill-fated projects and knowing they'll be killed or delayed for "revinue" projects. I'm burned out, and my work performance is suffering strongly from it right now. Christmas vacation did nothing to help me "recharge". I still have the slight cold symptoms from the past two months. Like in Joe Verses the Volcano, which The Boyfriend forced me to watch. (If you accept that it's going to be cheesy, there are some very funny scenes in it.) So like Timmy, I fantasize and worry myself at the same time about just up and leaving, even though I know that the Boyfriend is right -- I need to move towards something, not run away from something. No, I won't quit. But we'll see how my review goes; I'm not looking for glowing reviews -- my work ethic has kinda suffered these past few months -- just a better understanding of what's expected of me. Christmas has to come down today. Put the tree and ornaments and spiders (well, maybe not the spiders) away for a year. Because it's tacky to have Xmas decorations up in mid-January. Of course, the Roommate and I still have to do HanukkaYuleMas with one friend of ours. (Oh, the problems of naming a shared holiday for an Atheist, a Jew/Atheist, and a Witch) I have yet to transfer my domains to my new web hosting service. There's much HTML, Flash, Javascript and server software stuff I want to learn and implement. But instead of any of this, 2001 has been mostly a good year of giving my Sims a decent shot at a new job. Well, I can make their lives fulfilled and happy with a few flicks of the mouse. Mine takes a little more doing than that. At least, I think it does.... (Flick, Flick.) Just checking. _Casey
2003-03-29 - Moving Notice |
